Starlit Kianoides
by Ceireavne
Summary: From Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride. Chastille/Barbatos oneshot, taking place after volume 5. If a proper category is added for Archdemon's Dilemma, then I'll probably move this fic there. Until then, sorry and good luck finding this. Alternate title: Purgatory's Dilemma.


Chastille stopped outside of Manuela's store. "Barbatos, come here a sec."

Her shadow wriggled in acknowledgment. A rather shady sorcerer rose from the ground not far from her. "What is it, crybaby?"

The knight made a sour face at him. "I'm going to talk to Manuela. Do you mind staying out here?"

"Tch, whatever. You really sure you trust that crazy bird with yourself?" He muttered gloomily. Striding across the street, he leaned against the building on the other side where he assumed watch.

Chastille turned and entered the shop. A bell attached to the door rang, announcing her presence.

"Coming~" a familiar voice called out in a sing-song voice. A young clerk with wings made her way to the front of the shop, her face lighting up as she saw her friend. "Hey, Chastille! Come for some new clothes? I've got just the right thing," she said with an ever-so-slightly lascivious look in her eyes.

"Uu," Chastille couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably as the avian stalked closer. "No, that's not it. I just wanted t-to talk," she stammered nervously.

Manuela huffed softly and leaned back against the front counter. "Well, I haven't really got anything else going on. Let's hear it."

Chastille's face brightened as she smiled at her friend. "You'll listen? Thank you, Manuela—you're such a great friend!"

"Mhm. So, what's up? Another sorcerer making trouble for you?"

The Archangel pinned her chest, feeling a bit anxious. "Y-yeah, sort of."

"Ah," the avian said, a wide grin spreading across her lips. "You wanted to have one of _those_ kind of talks? So, who is it?"

Chastille felt her face reddening in embarrassment. "Um, it's Lord Zagan," she managed quietly.

The avian nodded understandingly. "Have you told him yet?"

"No." The knight shook her head at that. "I don't... I couldn't get between him and Nephy, you know?"

Manuela's face twisted as she thought of an idea. "Well, you know the best thing to do when you're feeling like this?"

The Archangel blinked at her friend, tilting her head curiously. "Um, no?"

Her friend struck a ridiculous pose, hands on her hips and wings spread at a dramatic angle. "Dressing up, of course! The world's problems become much less worse when you feel pretty, you know?"

Despite her better judgment, Chastille acquiesced and allowed herself be taken to the changing room in the back of the store.

In mere seconds, Manuela had found an outfit for her friend to wear. The knight glanced at it, surprised. "A suit? But... eh?" Although rather chic, it was indeed a pant suit. The soft fabric was a deep blue with thin, dark stripes. "Is this supposed to make me look pretty?"

The avian scoffed on the other side of the curtain. "We'll get there, alright? But in the mean time I just wanted to dress you up a little bit, you know? All I ever see you wearing is your armor or your uniform, after all."

Chastille heaved a deep sigh but decided to indulge her friend.

Manuela continued their talk from earlier as her friend was changing. "So, Lord Zagan."

"Mm, yeah," the knight said shyly.

"How'd it happen? Love at first sight?" the clerk teased with a laugh.

"No, nothing like that. The first time I saw him, Lord Zagan... he saved me."

"Oh?" Manuela asked, sounding very interested. "Come on, gimme some details."

The Archangel felt her face redden and was quite thankful for the changing room's curtain. "W-well, I was off work and didn't have my armor or sword with me. I hadn't met Zagan yet, and was investigating the forest outskirts of his domain. I was... attacked by a sorcerer."

"A different sorcerer?"

"Right," Chastille agreed. "His specialty was peeling off faces, using them to fuel his magic." She couldn't help but shudder as she recalled the grisly visage of the faceless monster.

"Ugh. Sounds like a real creep."

"Yeah. Since we were on the outskirts of Zagan's territory, he showed up... despite the fact that he had no reason to, he saved me. I was splattered with blood, but no worse for the wear."

"Ehh? Blood?! What happened?"

"Oh, not mine," she explained patiently. "From the creep sorcerer, I think."

"Gross," her avian friend muttered.

"Well, yeah," she agreed. "I'm used to getting messy in battle, but it was still pretty gross."

Manuela snorted in amusement. "Gotcha. So that's how the two of you met?"

Chastille nodded before remembering she was still behind the curtain. "Yes. And we've been working together for a while now. I just kind of realized," she paused, her voice growing fragile. "Even if I can't compete with Nephy, I still..."

"I see," her friend replied understandingly. "You changed yet?"

The knight heaved another sigh. "Yeah, just a sec." She finished donning the jacket and stepped out of the changing room.

Manuela's eyes lit up fiendishly and she quickly led her friend to a full length mirror. "Very nice," she smirked, rubbing her hands together.

Chastille's cheeks puffed up angrily. "Manuela, are you even listening?!"

The avian made a sour face in response. "Don't underestimate me, little knight," she chided. "Even though the two doves are quite smitten with each other, they've been taking their time. And you'd feel bad getting between them, right?"

Her friend couldn't help but pout. "Y-yeah, more or less."

Manuela gestured to Chastille's reflection. "Ara ara, with how handsome you are, it's a wonder the boys aren't lining up for a bit of your attention~"

"H-handsome?!" The Archangel squawked indignantly. "You're so mean, Manuela." She loosed a glare at her friend before storming back into the changing room, closing the curtain behind her.

The clerk laughed brightly in response before passing her another outfit to try on. "I'm just teasing, so relax! Really, you're telling me you aren't popular with the boys?"

Chastille couldn't help but sigh. "Uu—well, I guess I can act childish sometimes?"

"So? I'm sure lots of gentlemen think that sort of thing is cute~"

"Wha?! C-cute? Barbartos always says I act like a crybaby, though."

"Mhm. So, how's this one fit?" the clerk asked excitedly.

Unlike the first outfit, this one did actually make Chastille feel pretty. It consisted of a white blouse and a long, flowing skirt. "Hold up." After finishing adjusting the blouse, she exited the room once more and showed her friend.

It seemed as though steam would start pouring out of Manuela's ears. "Yes... very, very nice~"

She led Chastille back over to the mirror with a bright smile on her face. "You see," the avian continued, "Like I was saying, you're positively beautiful, Chastille."

The Archangel smiled wanly but twirled a few times as she admired her reflection. "Hehe," she couldn't help but giggle.

"See? Told you it would help you feel better," Manuela said, sounding smug.

Chastille stuck her tongue out at her friend. Glancing back to the mirror, she felt her thoughts wander to another sorcerer. A while back, Nephteros had told Chastille that Barbatos had feelings for her. The same Purgatory Barbatos who was keeping watch outside. She'd been trying not to think about it, since it would only serve to make things awkward between them. Nephteros was probably mistaken, anyway. Hopefully.

"Actually, about Barbatos..." Chastille fidgeted nervously, sorting out her thoughts. After calming her nerves, she finally continued: "Nephteros told me... I think she was imagining it, but she told me that Barbatos..." She stopped, feeling her face turn beet red.

Her avian friend chuckled, although Chastille couldn't help but think it sounded a bit like a cackle, too. "He's the weirdo who Zagan asked to keep an eye on you, right?"

The Archangel made a sour face, hearing that. "Weird? But he really isn't so bad..."

Manuela blinked owlishly, pausing in the appraisal of her friend. "Huh. How do you mean?"

Chastille thought back to the several times she'd been saved by Zagan's undesirable friend. Of special note was the time he'd protected her from Kuroka (known as Azazel at the time). The memory, dyed red with blood, sent a shiver down her spine. Before long, she noted the corners of her eyes had grown damp. "Several times, he's saved me..." she managed quietly.

Her friend nodded understandingly. "Yeah, a villain wouldn't risk life and limb just for a paycheck. Are you sure he's a sorcerer?" she asked with a smirk.

The abrupt quip made Chastille snort. "Well, yeah. I've seen it firsthand, you know. His magic is very powerful."

Manuela made a skeptical face in response. "I dunno. You really think you should leave things like this?"

Chastille blinks slowly. "Oh, are you done dressing me up? I'll change back, then."

The clerk shook her head. "No, don't worry about that. I mean... maybe you should talk to him about it."

"Barbatos?" The Archangel was stunned for a moment. "B-but why would I...?"

Her avian friend rolled her eyes. "Leave it to Zagan and Nephy to act emotionally stunted. You're an adult, right? Communicate like one, then," she said bluntly.

"But..." The knight found herself at a loss for words.

"He's put his neck on the line for you, right?"

Chastille didn't answer. She was still tongue-tied.

"Well, what'll you do if he croaks before he can tell you how he feels? Uh, assuming he does... have feelings for you, I mean," Manuela finished, scratching her cheek awkwardly.

The young knight felt her eyes sting and her breath catch. "Barbatos? D-dying?" Her voice was very—almost timid.

"W-well," Manuela explained, sounding a bit defensive, "it's pretty obvious that Kianoides has seen a lot of action lately. And a good chunk of it was directed at you, no less."

Chastille bit her lower lip, feeling frustrated.

Her friend shrugged warily. "I dunno. Think of it like a professional duty, then. It'll be easier to talk to him if you're both on the same page, right?"

The Archangel shook her head quietly. Why was Manuela so sensible now of all times? "I guess... yeah, I've done scarier stuff as part of work, right?"

Manuela's face softened, hearing that. She gave her friend an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. "Good luck, Chastille. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

Chastille heaved a weary sigh. "No, I think that was it." She turned around, starting back toward the changing room.

"Mm? Hey, Chastille?" the clerk asked, stopping the knight in her tracks.

"Huh? What is it?"

"You said it worked, right?" Manuela asked, her lips quirking into a grin.

"Uu, huh?"

"You said you feel pretty dressed like this."

"Um, yeah?"

"Want to take it home? It really does look good on you."

Chastille felt her cheeks redden at the compliment. "B-but I left my wallet in my room—"

The avian snorted. "I already told you not to worry about it, didn't I? This one's on the house. You can have one of your gofers stop by and retrieve your uniform tomorrow."

"Uh, y-you're sure it's okay?"

Manuela wrinkled her nose distastefully. "Don't be such a difficult girl, alright? Next time you need an outfit make sure you bring your business here, and we'll be square." She then muttered something about dress-up, but Chastille pretended not to hear it.

The Archangel glanced demurely at the floor, feeling awkward. "O-okay." She took her friend's hand, offering a smile. "Thank you, Manuela. I really appreciate your advice."

Her friend beamed happily at her. "Any time, handsome~" she added with a sly wink.

Chastille left the shop, seeing it had grown dark already. There was a small mountain of work waiting for her, but the young Archangel couldn't help but feel restless. Her feet began leading her in the opposite direction of the church.

"Chastille?" an all too familiar voice prompted her from nearby.

She glanced over to see Barbatos rising from a dark shadow.

"You done talking with the crazy bird lady already?" he asked, cocking his head. "You realize the church is in the other direction, right?" The expression on his face was halfway caught between amused and concerned.

The Archangel felt an anxiety gripping her heart and she gritted her teeth. Barbatos was... not exactly the first person she wanted to talk to right now. She still hadn't sorted through all the thoughts in her head. "Y-yeah, I know."

Barbatos blinked slowly at her. "Oh, are you going on a walk?"

Chastille glanced warily at him, shrugging. "Is that a problem?"

He cocked his head, watching her closely. "Not really. Mind if I come?"

She resumed peering sidelong at the sorcerer. "It's not like you'd listen even if I told you not to come."

"Tch, fine. Such a pain," Barbatos muttered, sinking into the shadows.

"Uu—hey, wait," Chastille stammered, panicked. "I'm sorry, Barbatos, I didn't mean..."

He paused, staring blankly at her. "Can you make up your mind already, crybaby?"

The Archangel narrowed her eyes as she pouted at him. "Come with me, Barbatos?" she asked quietly.

Was that... did the look in his eyes just soften?

"Uu," Chastille grumbled. "Please?"

Barbatos turned away, his sallow face hidden in the folds of night. "Whatever, fine," he said bitterly.

The two of them walked, Barbatos staying three steps behind and to her left. It was behavior typical of him, so Chastille simply ignored it. Neither of them spoke, and the knight found herself enjoying the look of Kianoides bathed in starlight.

Before long, Chastille's feet had led her to a serene plaza. In its center lay a fountain, and a few green shrubs framed the plaza, lending it a gentle atmosphere not unlike a park. She took a seat on one of its benches and glanced up at the sky.

She tried not to really think about anything, but after a few moments the girl noticed Barbatos' eyes on her. He was several yards away, vigilant as usual.

Chastille tilted her head, staring curiously at him. "Barbatos?"

The sorcerer's face darkened a bit. "What?" Was that... hostility in his voice? "You aren't trying to set me up here, are you?"

"Uu—huh? What do you mean?"

Barbatos rolled his eyes. "Cute girl alone outside with a villain like me? Imagine it wouldn't look good. And if Zagan heard some unsavory rumors about this, he'd kill me for sure."

She furrowed her brow, managing an awkward smile. "But Barbatos, you aren't that kind of guy."

His lip curled into an expression part frown and part sneer, but he remained silent.

Chastille gestured to the empty part of the bench to her right. "Uu... you can take a seat, Barbatos."

The sorcerer continued gazing at her in suspicion, and it wasn't long before she was pouting once more at him.

"Tch, fine," he spat before sitting on the other end of the bench. "What is it? You've got something to tell me?"

His lips curled into a cynical grin. "Oh... you're going to tell me to get lost, huh?"

"Bwuh?! H-huh?"

"On with it, then. What do you want?" His face relaxed just a bit, showing that he was only teasing her. Probably.

The Archangel gathered her thoughts for a few moments before she could speak.

"Why?"

Barbatos blinked in surprise. "Huh? Why what?"

"I mean when Azazel attacked me," Chastille explained.

His face grew even grimmer than usual as he listened to her.

"Barbatos, you almost died, so why?" Her voice was quiet.

The sorcerer chuckled darkly. "Is that it? Zagan asked me to babysit you. If I don't follow through, I don't get paid."

"Oh," Chastille replied. "Um, is there... was there another reason?" she asked timidly.

He made a bitter face. "You realize, this gig isn't so bad. If I wasn't making myself useful here, Zagan would probably have me hunting down creeps like that face-peeler."

"Mm. But you don't have to, do you?"

Barbatos shook his head in response. "Zagan's a bastard, but I do respect his strength. Besides, he is..." he shut his mouth before he could finish that thought.

Chastille felt her lips quirk into a faint smile. Because he's your friend, right?

She felt her breath turn brittle as anxiety slowly crept into her breast. The knight slowly scooted closer to him and gently touched his arm where Kuroka had once severed it. "You gave... your arm. There was," she paused, feeling tears well in her eyes, "so much blood. I really thought you might..."

The sorcerer shifted uncomfortably at her touch. "So what?" His voice was defensive.

Chastille thought back to a question that Manuela had asked earlier. "You're a sorcerer, aren't you?"

Barbatos paused, seemingly speechless for a brief moment before he replied. "Are you daft? Of course I'm a sorcerer."

She frowned at him. "You know what I mean. Even the most virtuous sorcerer isn't a good person. That's why you temper your bodies with magic, right? To live longer and grow stronger. Once you die, then your bid for power is over and done. You look out for yourselves first and foremost because ultimately," the stinging in her eyes grew worse. "Ultimately you've got no one else to count on. Your life and your power are all you've got."

He was silent and contemplative.

"So why?" she asked once more. "You put my life before yours, Barbatos. More than your contract with Zagan required you to. You almost lost everything," she finished softly.

Barbatos continued his silence for a long moment. Finally, he shrugged off her hand and took to his feet in one swift motion.

"Guess I was right, this is some kind of setup. Tch, what a waste of time."

Chastille looked at him, tears in her eyes. She felt the anxiety in her breast grip her heart tighter. "But I don't—"

"I'm not your servant, so don't tell me what I can and can't do, you bitch," he spat bitterly. "You telling me I can't lose my cool once in a while? Well look in a damned mirror, crybaby." Definitely defensive.

"Uwha? You lost your cool?"

The sorcerer's face turned grim once more as he watched her.

"Um, what... what do you mean?"

"Chastille." His voice, cold and serious, cut through the night like steel. "Don't try to tell me who I am. I know... I know I'll never be Zagan, and I know that I'm a nuisance most of the time, but I'm not trash. I'm not a coward."

She felt a chill run up her spine, and at some point the anxiety in her heart had become the same as Nephteros' words. But it couldn't—

"At the end of the day, I'm just Purgatory Barbatos, and like you said, my life and my strength are all I've got," he said bitterly. "But I'm not so small-minded so as to think I'm the most important person to our cause. There are..." he glared at her, seeming somewhat flustered, "some things so precious... my life would be a small price to pay if I can keep them safe." As he finished, his voice had grown softer, almost fragile.

The Archangel froze, stunned. "B-but, I'm not—"

There was something wild in his eyes now. "You want to laugh? Fine, go ahead," he snorted derisively. "Sorry that I'm not Zagan, Chastille. I can only be me, Purgatory Barbatos. But damn if that matters because I care for you and want to protect you." He smiled bitterly, like a beast baring his fangs. "There, is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now? Tch, what a pain," he barked, turning his shoulder to her.

Chastille's head grew numb and her diaphragm trembled. As she tried to breathe out, tears spilled down her cheeks and she cried.

After a while, Barbatos grew impatient. "Stop," he told her.

But she couldn't stop. If anything, she cried harder.

The sorcerer grew even more uncomfortable. Slowly, he approached the bench and awkwardly sat down next to the girl. "Knock it off, okay?" His voice was gentler than before. "I'm just... I'm not good at this stuff. I didn't... I didn't mean to yell at you."

She kept crying, but it was cathartic and after a while she finally began to calm down. A quiet moment passed by, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Stupid Barbatos," she muttered between sniffles, "you're so mean."

"So," he said, thinking aloud, "you want me to get lost?"

Chastille shut her eyes as another breath rattled in her chest. "But why would I..."

"Tch, stop messing with me. You must think I'm a creep now." Less defensive than before, more sullen.

Still leaning against his shoulder, the Archangel shook her head. "You're not Zagan. I... I don't know exactly what I think," she said, searching for the right words. "But you're not creepy, Barbatos. You're very competent, good humored, kind... sometimes even a little bit sweet."

Barbatos let out a reluctant sigh. The girl leaned against him rose and fell with his shoulder.

"Mm," he answered.

Another quiet moment took the shadowy plaza.

Raising his right hand, he patted her gently on the head. It made Chastille feel warm, like when Zagan had done it to her.

"I tease you because you're cute when you pout. I admire how kindhearted you are to your friends, and even sometimes to strangers. Sweet and very thoughtful. Despite being a crybaby, you've never had a problem doing your job. You see the best in people... even sorcerers like me. And you're," he paused, loosing a bitter sigh. "Well, a girl as pretty as you is out of my league, anyway."

Still leaning on the sorcerer's shoulder, Chastille giggled quietly. She felt vulnerable all over, a prickly sensation that almost made her shiver. Barbatos might be more like Zagan than she'd thought.

His arms were resting on his lap. Not exactly defensive, but not comfortable, either.

Chastille shifted her hand, gently wrapping her fingers around his wrist. His sleeve was cool from the night air.

"I wish I'd slugged him good back before he became Marchosias' successor."

The girl listened quietly, unsure what he meant.

"It's disgusting, you know? He and Nephy are too perfect."

"Mm," she agreed. "It's like a fairy tale, isn't it?" Unbelievable, unreal, and unfair.

Another quiet moment passed between the two.

"And he's a bastard for letting a girl like you go," Barbatos added quietly.

Chastille felt her eyes sting again, but somehow she was happy. Her vulnerability began to wane, leaving behind that warmth from before.

"Barbatos?"

It was a while before he replied: "Yeah?"

"Do you... do you want to give it a shot?"

"Give what a shot?" he asked, chuckling wryly. "Punching him? Pretty sure that wouldn't go over well. He'd make me buy him some expensive booze, too."

"Uu—but that wasn't what I meant. Us," she explained gently. "I may have admired Zagan, but that's all. I... I know there's a lot of stuff going on, but that's all the more reason to live our lives now." After all, I admire you, too, Barbatos.

"So," she continued, "do you want to give us a chance?" Chastille moved her grip on his arm, taking his hand in hers.

He contemplated this for a good while.

"Chastille, you can do a lot better than me."

She blinked at him, surprised. "Then step up your game." A small smile crept onto her lips.

"Kuroka would definitely kill me."

"Why? She's only teasing you, right?"

Barbatos glanced down at her, silently watching her for some time.

"You're sure?"

"Mm." Chastille squeezed his hand gently.

"It wasn't... growing up wasn't as shitty for me as it was for Zagan. Even so, it's not something I'm particularly good at."

The Archangel raised her head, peering curiously at him.

"Heart-to-heart stuff, you know? Chastille, you deserve to be happy. You deserve so much." Barbatos shook his head wearily. "So, I'll try. I want to become the kind of man that can make you happy. But I've got a long way to go."

She smiled brightly at him, enjoying the warmth welling in her breast.

"So," he began, "it's pretty late. Should we head back?"

Chastille gave a small hmph, pouting at him. "Well, okay. But can we come here to stargaze another night?" she asked, peering into the sorcerer's face.

"Tch, whatever. Fine. If you don't get some damned rest then you'll be an even bigger crybaby in the morning."

"Barbatos, don't be so mean," the girl whined, playfully hitting him.

He snerked, taking his feet and turning to face her.

As Chastille stood up, she noticed the sorcerer's lips draw into a thin smile.

"What, is something wrong?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Uh, what? No, I was just thinking you look really cute tonight."

She paused as she slowly parsed his words. "Uu—huh?"

Barbatos' face began turning red. "Tch. You're always wearing your uniform or your anointed armor. But tonight you look girly. It's cute."

Chastille pinned down her skirt, glaring daggers at him. "D-don't look, you pervert!"

The sorcerer casually turned around, laughing. "Forget it, then. Let's go."

She felt tears welling in her eyes as she panicked. "That time on the boat, you said you weren't into younger girls. But you really—ugh, you pervert!"

"Don't flatter yourself, crybaby. Now hurry up. If you fall asleep out here then I'll have to carry you back to your room."

"Never," Chastille wailed, hustling to catch up with him. "Fiend! Villain! Sorcerer! Gargoyle! Pervert!"

"Less name calling and more walking, okay?" he chided, snickering.

"J-just how much did you see? I..." Tears began running down her face and yet she wasn't unhappy. "I'll never be a bride, will I? Barbatos, you... won't take responsibility, will you?"

"Sleep spells are small potatoes, you know? Now shut it before you wake up the whole town. Unless you really do just want me to carry you. Tch, and you called me a pervert?" he said mockingly.

"Uu, Barbatos is so mean," she lamented.

"Mm, so? You already said a while back you enjoy being teased, didn't you?"

And despite the tears in her eyes, Chastille gave him a bright smile. His face turned red almost immediately.

"Yep. I enjoy calling you mean, too. Is that okay?"

Barbatos kept walking, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Do whatever."

Chastille closed her eyes for a short while as they walked together in the starlit streets. Like Zagan, she admired the man beside her. The truth was she'd admired him for a while, now. But this time, it might be more than just a crush...

"Thanks, Barbatos." There was a hint of veneration in her voice.

He snorted in response. "For what?"

"Oh, and I'll have to thank Manuela again, too."

The sorcerer turned a withering stare to her. "What was that?"

"Ehehe, nothing," she said, smiling to herself.


End file.
